


We Should Know

by totalsyndrome



Category: ONE OK ROCK
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2018-12-03 07:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11527218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totalsyndrome/pseuds/totalsyndrome
Summary: There's a limit to everything and sometimes there's no way around it.





	1. Chapter 1

The slender body that lay beneath him, beautifully arched as he traced his palm over the sweaty skin. Hot breath mingled with his, their panting synchronizing. They ended the night with a brush of the lips and slept back to back on a bed. 

 

These days passed painfully slow for Toru. It seemed like everything was happening all at once. His bandmates, and also closest friends had gotten married, the world tour had started, the fans have begun to demand more during meet and greets and he was still lost. The band would be fine even if he didn’t participate because Taka was the one who pulled One Ok Rock into social networking events, spreading their name. 

Toru sighed, trying to light his cigarette with a dying lighter. A flame was brought to him and he leaned to light it. He inhaled and blew out a large puff of smoke. He thanked the man and continued to smoke in peace, relaxing in his seat. 

“What’s wrong, Toru?” Ryota asked. He sat next to Toru on he bench, studying the man’s face. 

“What do you mean?” 

He wasn’t stupid—at least when it came to his childhood friend he’d grown up knowing. Ryota pondered for a while, silently swirling his can on coke. There were only few things that could’ve made Toru like this. 

“Is this about Mori-chan?” 

A straight stare to the off-white wall across from them. Toru hummed. 

“The band, Taka, us,” he said and Ryota nodded. 

The two always had had a complicated relationship. At first it was a stalker and a singer then it became bandmates and finally mixed up between romantic partners and band fuck buddies. Ryota realized from the start the way Toru acted around Taka was different compared to how he was with regular guy friends. He could tell Taka had a crush on Toru since the band’s formation. It was obvious just looking at his eyes, his expression when Toru was before him. 

“I think if it’s you two, the band will be fine. Didn’t I always say that?” 

At last, Toru turned to him. His usual lazy demeanour was gone. “You do, but you know Ryota, I don’t think so.” 

Fingers squeezed the can shakily, crumpling it into mere trash. His breath stopped. 

“What are you saying?” 

With a slight smile, Toru said, “I’m letting him go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, more work to add to the pile. What is this half-assed beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

Toru hadn’t spoken to Ryota besides discussing the band’s rehearsal times for their North American Ambitions tour for the past week. His childhood friend avoided eye contact with him ever since their brief conversation about his personal relations, making an excuse and beelining for the bathroom when they were left alone. Ryota needed time to sort his thoughts and Toru understood that. He had to admit he wasn’t at all gentle in his statement; one that might have meant the end of One Ok Rock. 

The tension was obvious enough Tomoya had noticed, but he was always a sharp one. He’d drum those stable beats behind them during the lives, his usual smile on for the crowd—and for them. 

On the other hand, Taka couldn’t had cared less for the mood and asked, “Did you guys have a fight?” 

They had just finished their sound check at the House of Blues, Houston, when the vocalist broke the ice. From the corner of his eye, Toru could see Ryota stifen at the question and turned his attention to wiping his bass. Taking the pick out of his mouth, he placed his emerald PRS on the guitar stand and began cleaning his area. 

“No,” Toru said. “We’re not fighting.” 

Ryota glanced over his shoulder at Toru, holding his gaze. The corners of his lips lifted in a tight curve. He focused on the yellow microfibre cloth in his hands, the same colour as their new album Ambitions. Hope, dreams and love. Was it that hard for the three to co-exist? 

A finger tapped his shoulder. “Tomo-kun.”

“There’s a good steak restaurant nearby,” Tomoya said. 

The mention of food accompanied by the grin on Tomoya’s face immediately cheered him up. He jumped onto his feet and pat the man’s back, jogging in place. 

“Steak again?” Taka shook his head, hands on his waist. “You guys are going to get sick,” he said. 

Shrugging Toru, who was relaxing on the drum riser, crossed his arms and chuckled. “That was you.” 

“Huh, was it?” 

Ryota had trouble keeping his smile, the strain on his facial muscles becoming too much. “So are you two coming?” 

“No, I don’t need anymore protein,” Toru said. 

“Sorry, I can’t eat too much of that stuff.” 

The rhythm pair left the venue grounds and headed off to their lunch adventure. They chatted about the latest games, movies, their wives, and mundane tour problems like how their bus air con suddenly broke down last night.

“Tomo-kun, you know, I like this band too.” 

Tomoya’s arms froze in air, he stopped chewing the piece of steak and set his utensils on the table. He put his hands together, waiting patiently for the younger to speak. 

“I just don’t get it.” Ryota frowned. He looked at Tomoya in hurt and confusion. “Tomo-kun, tell me why Toru’s breaking up with Mori-chan.” 

Unable to utter a sound, Tomoya swallowed. He couldn’t grasp what was what when Ryota was sputtering fragmented parts of a story. He reached for the man’s wrist. 

“Start from the beginning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting off with short chapters and going from here. Won't have time to write later so did it just now. Apologize in advance for being slow with this and Lucas/Taka fic. Not proofread yet as usual


	3. Chapter 3

An aluminum can hit the ground with a hollow thud. Ryota stared down at the fizzy dark brown liquid leaking from it, spreading its stickiness across the floor. He hoped he’d heard wrong, he hoped Toru was joking and he wished he understood what this all meant. His best friend was too quiet. 

The man breathed in, holding the smoke in for a moment and let out a long exhale. Toru tapped the cigarette against the ashtray. 

“Ryota, I like this band.” 

The fan in the corner blew cool wind at them, gently sweeping their fringes over their faces. He hadn’t realized when the fan was turned on. The strands pricked Ryota’s forehead, reminding him this was reality. A dry chuckle escaped him as he tried to comprehend why Toru suddenly wanted to break up with Mori-chan. They were smiling and flirting just yesterday weren’t they?  

“Toru, what’s going to happen to the band?” 

“Nothing,” Toru said. 

“Toru, you love Mori-chan and Mori-chan loves you.” 

His childhood friend did not respond.

“You’ve been going out for four years and—“ 

“Three,” Toru corrected. Ryota leapt at him, grabbing the man’s jacket and pulling him forward. He couldn’t believe Toru’s insensitive attitude and he was almost convinced it wasn’t his friend speaking. The band leader might’ve been drunk out of his mind and spouting nonsense, but he knew better than that. The large eyes staring back at him were focused in contrast to Toru’s monotoned drawl. 

“Why?” he whispered. His voice came out weaker than intended. A hand covered his shaking fists. 

“It’s what I’ve decided,” Toru said and gave Ryota a squeeze before removing the hand from his jacket. He stubbed his cigarette and pat the bassist’s shoulder on his way out.

He barely caught Toru’s last word. It could’ve been mistaken as the low rumble of the fan had Ryota been dazing off.

_Sorry._

He covered his face with both hands and groaned. What was an apology for? It wasn’t what Ryota wanted to hear because it left him with no explanation as to how the man came to this conclusion. It also wouldn’t have changed a thing. 

* * *

 

Tomoya gaze trailed down to their half eaten food and up again to Ryota. He waited for his friend to lift his head, but when Ryota didn’t after minutes, he called his name. He studied the man’s tired features marred in frustration. 

“Toru must have his own thinking. He’s the type to spend a lot of thought into a big decision like this,” Tomoya said. He picked up his fork, twirling it in his grasp. He heard a small noise of agreement from Ryota. “Does Takahiro know?” 

With furrowed brows, Ryota looked at Tomoya and slowly shook his head. It would’ve been impossible for those two to act normally if Toru had confessed to Mori-chan. 

“No.” 

“Then don’t you think there’s a reason Toru would tell you first?” 

“Maybe Toru didn’t want me to be surprised when the time came that’s why. He knows I’d…” Ryota grew softer with every word, noticing Tomoya expression remained unchanged.

“Toru’s the type that keeps to himself a lot, isn’t he?” 

“He’s always like that. Sometimes he’d surprise me and start rambling on about random things that he found annoying. He keeps his relationships a secret even though I tell him everything,” Ryota said. He folded his arms on the table, his leg shaking underneath impatiently. “Even with Mori-chan, we didn’t know they were dating until I asked.” 

“Is there a possibility that Toru’s unsure about this?” Tomoya said. 

Somehow it was unlike him to meddle this much in Toru and Taka’s affair but they were special…and so was their relationship. Naturally, it was better for him to let them sort it out themselves, break up if that’s what they’ve decided. 

* * *

 

Ever since lunch, Tomoya’s question lingered in his mind. If Toru wasn’t sure whether he should break up with Mori-chan, then he should have confided in him. They could have thought up of ways to deal with Toru’s problem; take time off from each other if Toru needed space or flirt with other people if they were getting bored. 

The meet and greet went by quicker than usual. Anxiety plagued him every time Taka kissed or got kissed on the cheek by a fan. He’d glance over on several occasions, noting Toru wasn’t phased. He seemed like he didn’t care there were women’s lips smooching his boyfriend’s cheek or when Taka himself kissed them, arms wrapped around their delicate shoulders. Ryota’s shoulders slumped as he accepted the fact that they were professionals doing their jobs. 

The next fan was a tall Asian man, standing a foot taller than himself. He shook their hands and exchanged pleasantries just like regular fans excited to meet their idols for the first time. There was a shift in mood the second the man stepped to greet Mori-chan. 

“Hi,” the man said. He showed signs of being nervous, stuttering, fidgeting on the spot, while staring at the vocalist with sparkling eyes. The fan moved onto Toru and Tomoya with haste then stepped back in between the couple for the photo. 

Ryota barely caught his friend’s stiff expression. Though it was difficult to discern Toru’s different faces, he had hung around him long enough to sense he was upset. He followed Toru’s line of sight. Ryota’s mouth broke into a wide smile and he had to cover it up with a palm before anyone saw. The Asian fan had pulled Mori-chan towards him a little above the waist and Mori-chan was happy to lean in. 

After careful observation, Ryota discovered there was a pattern. He really should have seen it earlier because it was in front of him the whole time. Toru mostly got jealous of men who drifted to Mori-chan a little too close for comfort. On the other hand, the shortest of their band member frowned at everyone hugging their guitarist—except the children. At one point Ryota was ready to hold Mori-chan back, seeing his annoyed face like he’d jump the girl for clinging onto Toru, in her own world pretending they were lovers. 

Despite the overlapping of what typical jealousy couples tended to display and his friend’s relationship, it was beyond Ryota that they could be nearing a breakup. He didn’t want to leave the two alone together. He didn’t want to imagine the talk they’d have and the heartbreaks. 

Inevitably something would happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not understand how format works on here and cut the chapter short again, sorry.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it's great I wrote this in an hour

It was a good live, Toru thought. The crowd was hyped as usual, screaming the lyrics back at him when Taka pointed the microphone to them, reaching for his guitar when he stepped a little closer and of course the crowd surfing. The audience went wild, pushing in waves to rush to the front for a chance to touch Taka. Even male fans were excited about the lack of distance and tried to grab at the vocalist, singing together with their idol. 

Toru plopped down on the couch, if it could be called one, of their tour bus and scrolled through the One Ok Rock tag on Instagram. Though the staff had taken videos of the live, short clips here and there, it wasn’t enough. He wanted to see how the fans saw them. Toru kept scrolling until he came across a certain thumbnail. 

It was of him and Taka. Mindlessly, Toru tapped on it and watched how Taka walked in large strides, confidently towards him. A hand pushed against his lower back while Taka sang the lyrics, bobbing his head like he was performing a sexual act. Toru smiled. He’d gotten used to the man’s sudden bouts of excitement, but it always caught him off guard. He would play along, thrusting his hips in time with Taka’s nod. 

The next video Toru opened was of Taka being carried back to the stage after he jumped into the crowd. It was funny how tiny the security guards made him look. They may as well have been Taka’s father. A father cradling their young child and carrying them home where they’d fall into a peaceful sleep. One of the guard’s hands ended up under Taka’s tank, revealing half the man’s back. 

“What’re you watching?” 

He looked up from his screen to see Taka towelling himself beside him. Toru observed quietly before answering, “Clips of today’s live.” 

Sighing, Taka rubbed the towel over his head and left it there. He hummed, acknowledging he’d heard Toru. Taka pulled out his phone and began scrolling through his camera roll. 

“I’ll air drop you the photos Gus took,” Taka said. The sound of a couple more taps and Toru could see the transfer on his screen. 

“Thanks.” He quickly chose his favourite shot and posted it. It became an unspoken routine that Taka would buy the collection of photos from the photographers and Toru would be resting in their bus the moment the live ended and they all changed. Taka raised his head, indicating that he had also finished uploading his post appreciating the city they had just performed for. The man stood and walked to the mirror hanging on one of the cabinets. Toru stared as Taka started fixing his styled hair. Soon they would both have to exit the bus and socialize with the openers at a club. 

“Taka,” he said. Taka froze, shoulders tensing. He continued to brush his bangs upwards, slightly to the side for a boyish look. 

“What?” Taka’s eyes didn’t leave the mirror as he heard Toru get off the couch and walk his way. 

Toru stood behind Taka, catching his gaze in the mirror. He pat the other’s shoulder. Taka was his boyfriend, his lover and someone whom he loved dearly. He was Toru’s. It didn’t feel real. He remembered the flash of bare skin in the video he was previously watching and slipped his hand under the hem of Taka’s tank top. His fingers trailed up to Taka’s nape where he placed his lips. 

“What…are you doing, Toru?” Taka’s voice was shaky and he could tell he was nervous. Toru caressed his back, then traced a finger down Taka’s spine. A soft noise caught in the man’s throat as he twisted his body away. Cute.  

“Sorry, nothing,” Toru said. He rubbed the heated flesh in his hand for a last time and withdrew. He straightened Taka’s top and headed for the bathroom. He laughed to himself when he heard the barely audible words from his lover. 

“Pervert…” 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

From the side of his vision, Toru could see Ryota give him a hard stare. Though his childhood friend should be warming up on his bass, he opted to make the guitarist uncomfortable right before a performance. The strings effortlessly sounded as Toru slid his fingers along the fretboard, tapping to a mental beat. He couldn’t help but shake his leg. If only Ryota would stop staring at him and look elsewhere or at least say something. 

Finally, he heard the other take in a breath. “You know Toru, earlier,” he started just to get interrupted by the door swinging open. The newcomer immediately took a step back, having two heads turn at the sight of him. 

“Have you guys seen Taka?” It was their tour manager Jeff. Receiving a shake, the buzz cut Caucasian slowly closed the door shut. 

Ryota sighed. He hopped off the couch he was slouching on and walked over to the mirrors. He glanced at Toru’s reflection, noting how the man was still playing with his guitar, albeit a little quieter now. His eyes were downcast. It drove his mind to analyze everything. Was Toru upset, was he wondering where Mori-chan was, was he bothered by his presence, was he nervous for their live in two hours or maybe, hopefully Toru was reconsidering his decision. 

“Toru, why do you want to,” Ryota said. His fingers dug into the cheap wallpapered surface, shooting another glance in the mirror. Toru didn’t tense, seemingly content with plucking at the guitar strings. “Toru,” he called again to catch the man’s attention. 

“I’m not talking about that anymore.” 

The voice was cold. His stomach painfully churned into knots as goosebumps rose on his skin from the chill. 

“If you love him why?” A quick and sharp gaze made him swallow. Toru abandoned the acoustic guitar, the one he bought last year at the PRS store to share with Mori-chan, and left. The door hinge didn’t squeak as it closed. The soft click sealed the room, isolating it from the rest of the world and Ryota felt his surroundings disappear, staring at a white wall. 

* * *

Taka jumped down from the stage and went straight to the barricades. The security helped the small man to balance on the edge as he roused the crowd to sing American Girls with him. Toru shook his head, a crooked smile on him. Even though today’s venue didn’t allow crowd surfing, the staff didn’t care one bit and pushed Taka further into the audience’s waiting hands. He leapt, banging his head in time with Tomoya’s drumming and sprayed the water he held in his mouth. The girls at the front screamed, waving excitedly at him. Then, he spun around to return to the microphone for his vocal parts and saw it—a fan had slipped their hand in between Taka’s spread thighs, touching his crotch. Taka had a wide smile on his face and Toru could hear the joy in his singing. 

Sweat loosened his grip on his guitar and Toru’s fingers slipped. An odd chord was drowned out by cheers from the crowd. He looked across the venue, avoiding the floor level and watched the balcony guests dance. 

* * *

Smoking in the rain was never a good idea. More so while on a tour where colds were common due to the fast changing environments the body had to adjust to. A wispy cloud floated and dispersed into the air as he exhaled. Toru closed his eyes, arms resting on his knees. What was he doing sitting under the rain? He could almost hear their manager’s scolding that he had to take care of his health and limit the amount of toxins he was exposing himself to. But vaping wasn’t quite the same; the effects were too minimal. 

“What are you doing out here?” 

Toru raised his head upon recognizing the familiar voice. He lifted a hand to show the smoke and took another hit. He heard the man click his tongue. 

Leaning against the bus, Taka crossed his arms. “Even though I’m enduring with just vaping and gum, it’s not fair.” 

The man’s pout resembled a blowfish sometimes and Toru couldn’t keep in his laugh. He offered his cigarette to Taka. To his surprise, the stick was taken from his hands. 

“What’s wrong? You completely played the wrong chords at the end today,” Taka said, breathing in the nicotine. He smoothed his index finger back and forth the cigarette. Something was distracting his lover recently. 

“Nothing.” 

And he always dodged the topic. 

The rain began to pick up from a drizzle to actual drops pattering on the concrete sidewalks. Taka tossed the damp cigarette into the trash without a word to his boyfriend. He shivered, rubbing his tattooed arms. He should’ve worn a jacket if he’d known it was going to pour. He wanted to go back inside the heated bus where he would wrap himself in his blankets and roll into a ball on the bed, but he couldn’t. 

He stared at Toru’s hunched back. The man’s shirt darkened as it absorbed the water raining down on him. He seemed distant, an existence that could not be reached, someone who was not palpable. A weight settled in Taka’s chest and he pressed a hand over it, feeling his heart beat underneath. His heart was beating fine yet the uneasiness remained and the pressure he held himself with did not stop his chest from growing heavier. Taka took a deep breath, careful so Toru would not hear and circled his arms around the man’s neck. He buried his face into Toru’s wet hair. 

“Go inside.” 

He shook his head and tightened his arms, hugging Toru’s neck. Taka trembled and sniffed. The sound of the rain was now like the rush of a river, the sensation like taking a shower with water continuously running down his face that he couldn’t breathe or open his eyes. 

“Toru,” Taka whispered. “It’s cold, let’s go inside.” 

His heart fluttered when Toru’s hand clasped his wrist. It was warm. He felt lips press on his arm, though he could’ve been imagining it. 

“I love you,” Toru said. 

“Really, what’s with you today. Gross.” In contrast to his feeble attempt at teasing the man, Taka squeezed Toru close to him that Toru could not move.  


	6. Chapter 6

The sole of his sneakers grated the bar stool footing, back and forth Toru’s foot abused the aluminum surface. This pair was already wearing so he didn’t mind that he was ruining them. It was almost time for a new pair anyways. Five days passed and the situation between him and Taka hadn’t progressed. There was never a perfect time to raise the delicate topic. 

Speech was something that could not be taken back once they left a person’s mouth. What was said was done, concrete. Toru called Taka’s name every day on multiple occasions, but he couldn’t utter a word when Taka turned. Those beautiful eyes, eyelids carefully shaped to appeal gentleness in them, he couldn’t bear to see how they would look after his confession. Would Taka’s joyful face contort into one of pain, confusion or betrayal? Toru didn’t want to imagine that. Although he resolved to break things off, the guilt stopped him. Taka knew from the start what they had wasn’t going to work. Nothing should have changed. 

The blond next to Toru let out a pitiful groan and he glanced over. “What’s wrong?” he asked, peeking at his friend’s phone on the table. The standard layout told him Ryota had been texting someone. 

“Michelle’s renewing her passport so we can’t meet until next month.” 

Here Toru was sitting with Ryota, having to console him on his own, wonderful. Tomoya was hanging around the area outside, talking to his wife on the phone and Taka was partying as usual at the centre of the club surrounded by their American acquaintances. Ryota resembled a love sick puppy, but it was understandable for the pair of newly weds. 

“It’s only one month. Once this tour is done, you’ll see her,” he said and the bassist laughed. 

“You really don’t know how to comfort someone. Really, you’re the same as before.” 

“Is that so.” 

“Yeah.” 

Believing they were both in a daze, comfortable in break of silence, Toru reached inside his pocket for a small cardboard carton. He pulled out a cigarette and searched for his lighter. He pat his jacket pockets, finding nothing in them, and sighed. The candle’s flame resting on top of the table flickered across his sight. Before Toru’s cigarette could light, he heard an inhale. 

“Sir, this club prohibits smoking,” the woman holding a round tray of drinks said. Her wavy blond hair swished as she gave a courteous bow. At Toru’s apology, she left the two of them. 

Disappointed he couldn’t even have a bit of smoke, Toru slid the stick back into its carton and in his dark pocket where it belonged. He sighed and held the cup in front of him. The cool condensation collecting on the glass soothed him. He caught Ryota staring and wondered how long the man had his attention on him for. 

“You’re stupid,” Ryota deadpanned. 

Of all people, Ryota was the one to call him stupid. Amused, a dry chuckle rumbled in his chest. 

“No really. You don’t know what we’ve been going through this week.” 

He rose a brow. “What?”

“He’s extra moody these days.” 

Toru didn’t need to think who Ryota was referring to. He listened, absentmindedly studying the pixels of a photograph hanging on the far right of the room. He took a sip of his Mojito, grateful to the store owner. They didn’t have his drink on the menu and offered to mix it for him at no extra charge. 

“He snapped at Tomo for no reason.” 

“Bet you guys were fooling around too much again. You know how he is when Tomoya’s too absorbed in his games.” 

“He got mad because Jesse woke him when he was tossing in his sleep.” 

The painting beside the photo print bled nicely as Toru’s eyes shifted to the side. Black to white. Contrasting and bold yet made sense. It was romantic if one understood the concept behind, start with nothing and end with nothing like a circled chain that no one could ever stray from. Neighbouring tables rambled on about nothing in particular—such as discussing the aspects of daddy kinks, what to do with a stumbling lady dressed like a chicken, what was for dinner, where groups would head to after to get more drunk and Toru could hardly care less. 

“I see.”

He got up, stool screeching against the laminate flooring and headed for the bathroom. He wished he could get through a day without someone mentioning Taka’s mood. Because he knew he was being an asshole, there wasn’t a need for third parties to beat it in him. It wasn’t as if everyone talked about his relationship with Taka, but it drained Toru all the same. Anything that hinted at a lecture at this point was ignored. 

“Oh, excuse me.” Toru tried to avoid the crowds pushing him into other people. Nevertheless, he bumped into a girl. His eyes followed the trail of beige chiffon fluttering and looked up. 

“Sorry,” the woman in her mid twenties said, Toru guessed now that she lifted her head. She smiled politely and stared him straight in the eyes. He tilted his head in question, receiving a surprised gasp. The woman waved a hand, casting a glance to the floor. “Sorry.” 

“For what?” 

She covered her mouth to prevent any sounds from escaping and squeezed her eyes shut. The silky baritone washed over her, easing her previous worries, replacing it with jitters. “I’m sorry, it’s just you’re so beautiful.” 

Scratching his neck, Toru blinked. This was the first time someone who wasn’t a fan of One Ok Rock said he was beautiful. He found himself smiling.  

“Thank you.” 

The woman was a good girl. Her voice was soft, gentle, her style of clothing modest and had an honest disposition. Her straightforward way of speaking led to a couple awkward moments as they engaged in a conversation. Toru suggested they move to the side instead of standing around the bathroom and laughed when she expressed embarrassment. She rushed through her words quickly, saying she should have noticed earlier they were blocking other customers who desperately had to go. 

Their topic eventually moved into music. It was a shame the club was filled with loud EDM that they couldn’t listen to each other’s suggestions right away. 

“John Mayer?” 

And from then Toru was completely invested in their chat. Though his face didn’t feel like his own when he smiled, he pushed himself to be social. He needed these kinds of interactions. Where the other party didn’t know about him or his past or expect anything. Toru had to admit he was having a nice time. 

* * *

 

Taka rubbed the sweat from his face, satisfied after the dance offs, drinking and just partying out hard. He returned to his bandmate’s table, in a great mood. He began retelling that he had met a fan who was at their meet and greet. The two were either bored or drained because they responded with groans, showing little enthusiasm. Thinking it was late and they should head back to their hotel, Taka searched the area for his boyfriend. He spot him immediately as usual. He always managed to find Toru easily. 

To his amazement, Taka saw Toru laughing. Their friends were gathered at the bar and Ryota and Tomoya were here so who was he with? There was a young woman sat the left of Toru—a model, he wondered. She was of a mixed descent, Japanese and European, judging from her strong jawline, soft cheeks, blonde wavy hair and brown eyes. 

Yawning, Ryota stretched in his seat, realizing his friend stopped talking. He propped his elbow on the round table. “Mori-chan? I’m sleepy so I’m gonna go,” he said. Apprehension gripped him as Mori-chan’s grin turned into a frown. He looked in the direction their vocalist was staring in and panicked. Ryota wet his lips, readying an excuse or distraction. He glanced at Tomoya. The green poodle hair swished as his partner shook his head. He swallowed and kept silent. 

In the beginning Ryota didn’t understand. He thought he’d gradually see where Toru was coming from, after all, they were childhood friends pretty much raised together. Now…now it was denial, but the most prominent emotion was something he didn’t want name. 

Mori-chan’s eyes were glistening, brows furrowed, shaking as he bottled what he was feeling. He couldn’t help it. His chest twinged and Ryota didn’t need to see his friend like this. He nearly dragged the man off when his arm was pulled. Afraid to speak, he mouthed Tomo’s name.

Don’t do anything, leave it. 

“Okay, okay…” Mori-chan nodded. He bit his bottom lip and turned. Ryota watched the man’s figure disappear further into the club. The ice clanked against the abandoned Mojito glass. 


	7. Chapter 7

“Taka,” Toru drawled. “What’s got you irritated today?” 

His boyfriend looked at him with half-lidded eyes, a cigarette playing between his teeth. The man was clearly drunk, a goofy smile on his face, sprawled on his side rubbing Taka’s arm. He glanced the other way. He didn’t feel like talking. 

The lively chatter and laughter of happy drunk men could still be heard through the booming EDM. It was one of their Japanese friend’s birthday party and though they were on tour, they didn’t want to refuse without a good reason. Already people on the couch were making out, slobbering their mouths with spit and alcohol. 

As expected the manager of a popular club, Taka thought. Every photo his friend uploaded was of him grabbing foreign talents’ breasts—not that he liked them on Instagram. He sighed. What a lucky man to be constantly surrounded by what he loves. 

“Takahiro.” 

Toru’s voice was hard, just like the tightening grip on his arm. Taka considered ignoring him, avoiding his question, but the slight tug felt desperate. Reluctantly, he turned to his boyfriend. 

“Is your phone that interesting?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

This was his own selfish thought. That he mattered to Toru to the point where he’d force an answer from Taka. Enough that he’d realize he was the cause. Toru had been on his phone all day, hardly looking up from it, smiling and chuckling. Normally he wouldn’t give a damn, maybe peek at his phone out of curiosity, but didn’t bother Toru. He didn’t need to because the guitarist was such a serious man that doubt didn’t exist in their relationship. Now, it was creeping under his skin and finding its way to his heart. 

Keeping still, Taka let Toru’s arms wound around him from behind, hugging him to his chest. Toru’s hands locked together, resting on his stomach. The body against him was solid yet soft and he unconsciously leaned into the warmth that began to melt the negative emotions that weighed and dragged him down. They rocked back and forth for a while in silence. 

“Sorry, I didn’t pay enough attention to you today did I?” Toru’s head propped on his shoulder, brushing lips on his neck. He shivered at the ticklish sensation and attempted to shrug the man off. 

That’s not it, he wanted to say. 

“If you understand, then get off me,” Taka said, elbowing Toru’s face. He rubbed the itchy wool on his boyfriend’s nose, knowing how much the man disliked this sweater of his. Toru groaned, releasing his hold on his waist to catch his wrist. 

“Stop that,” Toru said, jerking away from an invisible swipe. His entire face was red, irritated by the wool, making the man seem like he was mauled by an angry cat. Something bubbled up in the pit of Taka’s stomach and a smile made its way to his face. 

“No.” 

He laughed at the surprised expression of Toru as he jumped on top, attacking him with both his sleeves. The man tossed his head from side to side to escape Taka’s monstrous, hazardous, devil itching sweater. 

“What’s with you today? Sulking one moment an—pfff.” 

Taka covered Toru’s mouth. Whose fault did he think that was? He pressed down firmly to get the man to stop talking before rubbing the other’s forehead, cheeks and chin. Right when his mood was lifting, Toru had to ruin it. Taka frowned, whacking his boyfriend beneath him, his head filled with questions. 

“Hey, careful.” 

Who was the woman you were talking to the other day?

“Taka.” 

Are you talking to her online? 

“Wait.” 

Do you like her more than me?

“Ow!” 

His hand flew back at a sudden contact. Taka whimpered, brows knitting together and he bit his lips. It hurt. He fell on his bottom disoriented when Toru stood up without warning. 

“Come here,” Toru said and dragged him to his feet, quickly pushing through the rowdy crowds. He slammed the bathroom door open, earning cusses and insults from the occupants who were privately smoking their marijuana. Toru ignored them and pulled him to the running tap water. He hissed at the sting, but relaxed after feeling the coolness soothe his injury. 

“Sorry.” 

Taka looked up from the ceramic sink. He hadn’t expected a solemn apology from the man and it caught him off guard. It wasn’t Toru’s fault, he got too carried away fooling around. It was his fault. 

Toru seemed older than he usually did, eye bags drooping and deeply coloured, his downturned mouth making his sunken in cheeks more apparent. His arm moved faster than he could think, his index finger poking in between Toru’s eyebrows. 

“If you keep worrying about every little thing, you’re really gonna turn into an old man you know,” Taka said. He cupped Toru’s cheek, tracing light circles with his thumb. The sharp cheekbones that protruded instead of supple fat nagged at him. 

Toru gently brushed his hand away with his forearm. “Are you okay?” 

He blinked, his mouth hanging open at a loss for words. “Uh, yeah. I’m okay.” 

He was tugged again by the wrist out the doors and he turned one last time to the laughing smokers giving him a nasty smirk, a strange gleam in their eyes. Taka didn’t have courage in him to speak until they reached their hotel. 

“Here. Leave this on when you sleep,” Toru said and wrapped a compression gel bandage around his palm. The concern in his tone was hard to bear. Taka pushed Toru’s shoulders back to stare him in the eye. 

“Toru. Look at me.” When Toru didn’t, he shook him and held the man’s head still. “You’re overreacting.” 

“Overreacting? I burned your hand,” Toru snapped. 

Startled, Taka took a step back. Toru was never this emotional and over something this ridiculous was unbelievable. “It was an accident. Why are you so upset?” 

Toru exhaled, glaring at the creamy hotel wall, the lamp on the night draw casting a mellow shadow on it. He paused, shaking his head. 

“Nothing,” he said. 

Taka scoffed. He threw his hands up in exasperation. They fell limp at his sides, clapping his pants. “Why are you being like this? Stubborn for once.” 

“I said it’s nothing. Let’s not argue okay?” 

A pleading look was sent his way and Taka shut his eyes. Argue? Toru thought this would escalate to an argument? 

“You’re being stupid Toru.” 

Toru’s hand reached out to interlace their fingers. His boyfriend stroked over his bandaged hand and ran his other hand in Taka’s hair. 

“Sorry,” Toru said and kissed his forehead. “Goodnight.”

His arms remained outstretched in the air as Toru let go and left. He rubbed at his chest feeling unwell. Was it that difficult for Toru to be with him? He thought back to the club where Toru was chatting happily without him, bright and full of life. He thought about the earlier incident tonight in the bathroom, how Toru couldn’t properly look at him, how Toru looked so tired and that difference brought him to tears.


	8. Chapter 8

The moment Toru showed up to the morning’s soundcheck alone, Ryota immediately knew something was wrong. The two were always together and to see them apart during tours—when everyone had no spare time to hang out with people outside their staff nor the right timing—was especially odd. As he waved to Toru, he wondered if Mori-chan was sick. It had been pretty chilly last night after all and their vocalist was prone to colds. 

Toru shoved his hands in his black sweat pant pockets, walking to where Ryota was standing. His skin prickled with goosebumps, a shiver zipping through his body.

“Cold?” 

Toru shook his head, lazy half lidded eyes looking at the other. “Just woke up.” 

Crossing his arms, Ryota assessed his friend’s appearance from head to toe, nodding to himself. The sagging rings underneath the man’s eyes were darker than usual, some of his fringes were sticking upwards, his black shirt was worn inside out and the loose sweat pants were untied. At least he wore his shoes properly. “You look terrible.” 

“Hey, that was unnecessary,” Toru said and they both laughed. 

Ryota always felt at peace when he bantered with Toru like this. It put him at ease to be reminded of the past when they were still 3 foot tall children playing in the neighbourhood park after sunset, running to the arcade after school, catching dragonflies in the summer with their broken nets and dancing to hip hop beats under the spotlight together in front of cameras and a live audience. Nothing changed since then. Ryota even wanted to call their relationship brotherhood or family, but somehow neither fit perfectly.

“You drank too much last night didn’t you? You’re getting old, getting closer to the third decade.” 

Toru’s eyes unfocused, a smile lifting the corners of his lips. He rubbed his nape. “You know by now I don’t get drunk that easily.” 

The strange tone in the man’s voice snapped Ryota into proper attention. He gripped the barricade behind him, readying his next words. Should he ask what happened if he wasn’t drinking or should he poke fun of Toru’s words? The extended silence made it awkward to say something now, he missed the right timing and suffered having to wait out the serious mood. 

“I hurt him,” Toru mumbled. 

Ryota’s heart leapt at the implications and whipped his head. He took a breath then licked his lips. Calm down, he shouldn’t jump to conclusions and act up like the last time his friend indulged him with important considerations. 

“Did you guys,” he said, pausing as to cue the man to continue. Toru cleared his throat with a guttural noise. It sounded like he really had a lump lodged in there. 

“No…” His whisper was becoming quieter the more he spoke and it worried Ryota. If it was anyone else but Mori-chan he would’ve suggested hurrying to break it off already. Hurting his friend like this even after Toru decided to end the relationship, no one was worth that. None of the women the guitarist dated could read his demeanour and were caught off guard when proposed to separate. They wouldn’t have seen it coming miles away. Ryota glanced over again to Toru, noticing the dark brown irises muddled. This was the first time the man expressed his emotions clearly. 

“I can’t find the right time to say it,” Toru said. He crossed his arms across his chest, sighing. “When I see his face, it’s impossible.”  

Ryota’s mouth hung and he straightened his back at the revelation. He laughed. “You’re actually confiding in me. You must be completely tired to, what did you drink last night?” A slap to the back of his head seized his laughter. 

“When I don’t, you complain, when I do, you laugh then of course I don’t know which is worse.” Toru huffed, fixing his blond fringes that needed to be cut as soon as possible. 

“You’re a confusing person.” 

“That’s you, you idiot.”

They stopped their conversation there, enjoying each other’s presence while the staff were hard at work moving the sound equipment and setting up the stage for tonight’s show. Watching Toru stare at the stage, a stern look on him, further aroused his confidence in the man.

“Toru,” Ryota said and pat the man’s shoulder. Toru turned, blinking at him before looking down to see his outstretched fist. “We really did it. We really made it all the way here to not only America, overseas too.” 

Toru didn’t move. He opened his mouth to question the change in topic but left it alone and smiled. He lightly bumped their fists. 

“I’m glad you found Mori-chan as our vocalist.” Ryota noticed Toru’s smile falter ever so slightly and swallowed. “I mean, you could’ve chosen a terrible singer and doomed us all,” he said, folding his arms behind his head. 

“Who’s a terrible singer huh?” 

Eyes flickered in the direction of the new voice. 

Ryota quickly shook his head at the glare, knowing better than to joke around. “You’re misunderstanding, I was—“ 

“ _I’m_ misunderstanding?” Taka sounded exasperated, round eyes fully opening to stare knives into him. 

Despite Ryota’s efforts, he hadn’t been careful enough with his words and ended up irritating the smaller man. Again. 

“I didn’t mean you,” he said. 

Taka closed his eyes, a hand coming to hold his forehead. He groaned. “Just be quiet for a second. My head hurts.” 

“Does it hurt?” 

The familiar soft rumble made Taka freeze and slowly raise his head. He hadn’t realized Toru was there. He must have been seriously sleep deprived.

“It’s only a headache,” Taka said. It came out weaker than he wanted. 

“Your hand.” 

He brought his other hand up for the man to see, the bandages still tightly wrapped in place. Toru’s shoulders relaxed and that struck anger in him. Toru was more concerned about a minor injury that hadn’t bled or scarred than his detached attitude last night. Did he mean so little to Toru that the man would use his sore hand to distract from the real problem they were having? Toru was—

“Oh it’s,” he started loudly, startling Ryota, but the sentence was left hanging when Toru took his hand carefully. He sensed hesitation in the loose grasp. His temper deflated, the heat of the moment ebbing away. He let Toru unravel the long ribbons of white that bound him, the adhesive peeling off along with it. The man inspected the discolouration caused by the cigarette butt burn, twisting his hand from side to side. Thinking Toru was satisfied, Taka began to pull away until something chapped pressed into his palm. 

Taka felt fuzzy and hot. His eyes stung. He watched as Toru lifted his gaze to meet his, a disheartened expression fixed onto the equally exhausted face in contrast to his actions. Their hands glided past each other, Toru’s slipping through his thin fingers. Taka wanted to hold on for a little longer. He waned to soak up the warmth radiating from Toru, feel the man’s heart pulse and tell him he was safe. Toru soon turned and headed for the stage. 

“Mori-chan, the staff are calling for us…” Ryota said. He saw Tomoya finally come out of the bathroom, a hand on his stomach and dashed towards his buddy.  

* * *

Another party, Taka grumbled to himself. He loved attending those noisy parties where he could unwind and dance along to upbeat music performed by a DJ and flashing lights, shoes squeaking with every move, however, this was not one of those parties. It was a late evening gathering with Toru’s golf friends. Toru and Ryota knew the owner of the small bar since childhood and invited the entire band although him and Tomoya would have to adjust to mingling with new people—old people. 

The hours went by faster than Taka anticipated, a welcome fact, but it was because he spent most of his time chatting with Tomoya and another old man whose name he couldn’t remember. He was on the verge of wiping the table top off of tableware having to constantly talk about mundane daily life, golf, which he didn’t play, and topics he wasn’t interested in. Taka had to be polite to his friend’s friends, he’d shown patience and respect to elders in the entertainment industry back then, he could do it fine now. 

He held on for an hour before he gave up, making a nest in the corner of the room and drowning himself in alcohol. A palm rubbed his shoulder and he looked up, half expecting Toru to tell him they could return to the hotel. Once he saw who it was, he buried his face back in his arms that lay on the table. 

“You okay?” Tomoya asked. Receiving no response from the other, he sat in the empty seat next to the vocalist. He leaned in, humming. “They’re going to be a little longer, do you wanna go back?” 

Taka twitched and tossed his head backward, throwing his hands in the air. “Finally,” he said, returning Tomoya’s snicker. He was already imagining how wonderful his fluffy bed would be, the hot shower, or maybe a nice long bath that would lull him to sleep and not to mention the day of they had tomorrow. As the two made their way to say goodbye to the host and their bandmates, Taka heard Toru’s laughter.

His boyfriend looked like he was having a great time catching up with his childhood friend, he was making that hilarious sound that was a combination of inhaling and laughing at the same time. Like a donkey? 

Taka bit the inside his cheek, smiling at the thought. 

“You need to get out more, Toru. Haven’t been getting enough lately right? That’s why you’re always so uptight.” 

Toru’s expression didn’t change, his brows raising in amusement. “I’m on tour, I _am_ out. Neck’s sore too.” 

“There you go again, avoiding the topic. I know you better than you think.” The man wound his arm around Toru’s neck, pulling him towards himself. 

While their conversation bothered Taka, he brushed it off about to call out to Toru when Toru’s friend’s head drew close to the man’s ear, lips moving against it. He strode over to them, fist clenching tightly and grabbed Toru by the shoulder. He succeeded in tearing the leech off his boyfriend and glared at the offending man. 

“We’re leaving,” Taka said. 

Anyone could see the short man was annoyed, face scrunching like a mean little boy. Toru was used to it and though he would usually placate Taka’s moods, he didn’t want to leave yet. There was still much to talk about, he hadn’t gotten to conversing with his other golf friends about their wine tours, mountain hikes and long road trip adventures.

“You guys go ahead, I’ll stay for a bit more,” Toru said and Taka turned on his feet. The sudden cold shoulder was an anti-climatic reaction he would’ve expected. Was Taka ill? 

He tugged Taka back by the upper arm, sliding a hand to rest on his forehead. His temperature seemed fairly normal after taking the alcohol consumption into account. Maybe it was fatigue. The number of parties and late night outings they had were steadily increasing as they travelled closer to the metropolis. Sound check and rehearsals in the day, shows in the evening followed by drinking and sleepless nights only for it to repeat again until there was a day off, were bound to burn someone out. 

“Go back with Tomoya, Ryota and I will be back before morning,” he said softly. He combed through Taka’s drooping fringes that were losing the gel’s affect and pat the man’s head. “Goodnight.” 

Taka blinked, unable to move a step as he was presented a beautiful smile. It was rare for an unrestrained smile to be direct at him these days from Toru and the gentle touch added to his overflowing feelings. He really loved this man, whenever he was given these casual gestures of care, he remembered how he came to fall in love with Toru. 

Why couldn’t Toru reciprocate his actions on stage? Taka would bounce or skip his way to Toru during Bedroom Warfare, Jaded or Bon Voyage for some fun, but the man would pretend not to notice him approaching and walked the other way. He wouldn’t accept an excuse like “I really didn’t notice” or “I’m concentrating on playing the guitar” because it wasn’t possible. Toru played the songs countless times. He had to hold the man’s shoulder just so he wouldn’t escape. 

“Goodnight,” the friend’s voice said, startling Taka. 

He ducked his head in embarrassment when he realized he’d been staring at Toru for too long without a reply. 

“Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As said on ig, I'll no longer post oor fics here or in public (though I will put up snippets in different languages using google translate for amusement) after this work. Thank you for sticking through the odd update times. Will eventually edit when this done


	9. Chapter 9

Rays of sunlight peeked in between the gap of the heavy curtains, drawing a long streak of contrast to the darker shades of the hotel room. Taka rolled over onto his side, his arm swinging along with the motion and was met with intense white burning into the back of his eyelids. He groaned and returned to his previous position. He didn’t register the rustling sounds until something soft touched his cheek. Taka forced his eyes open. 

“Did I wake you?” 

Taka stared into Toru’s large eyes, then took in his dressed appearance. He had his same old faux leather jacket on, most likely his worn out converse sneakers to match—Taka could almost roll his eyes at Toru’s coordination—and the blond hair was combed neatly, not a single noticeable strand sticking up. He shook his head. 

“Good,” Toru said. Taka struggled to move his mouth when his lips didn’t part. They seemed to glue together overnight. He barely caught the man gliding past their shared queen size bed as his voice finally came out. 

“Where are you going?”

Toru stopped and backtracked, kneeling in front of him on the carpet. “I’m going out with the staff for breakfast while we film for the documentary.” 

Taka had nearly forgotten it wasn’t a complete day off today. There was always the next job lined up ready for them one after another, but it was considered an off day because a few hours of work was nothing. He sighed, a thought he knew he shouldn’t waste his energy thinking about crossing his mind. 

“Stay for another ten minutes,” Taka said, watching slight surprise make its way onto Toru’s face. The delicate rise in the man’s eyebrows told him this response was what he least expected. Toru smiled and curled his brown locks around a finger. 

“I’ll be back before you wake up again,” he said, his hand sliding down to cup Taka’s cheek. “So sleep for now.” 

Toru swiped over his nose and he leaned into the warmth, nuzzling his boyfriend’s thumb. When Taka lifted his eyes, he saw Toru break into a wider smile and that look was one of his favourite, bringing a rush of calmness to his tired state. Sometimes he found it ridiculous how easily the guitarist, his reason to keep doing his best, his reassurance, could change his mood with the smallest gestures. 

In a swift movement, Toru stood, patting Taka’s head one last time and headed for the door. Taka’s gaze followed Toru as he closed the door and opened it again, popping his head back in. The man blinked and glanced behind him. 

“If I’m not back before you’re up, change the bandages on your hand, okay? Also, sleep,” Toru said sternly and he was gone. 

He didn’t need to tell Taka twice. He heard it loud and clear the first time. Taka groaned with all his heart and kicked the sheets about. He stared blankly at the creamy wall across him. Forget it, he thought and bunched the thick covers to his neck, pressing his knees to his chest. He let his eyes fall. 

* * *

 

By the time Taka woke for the second time, Toru was still not back. His limbs ached as he reached to grab his phone on the nightstand. It had only been a twenty minute nap. He unplugged the USB from the hub that connected to the bottom of his phone and held it to his chest. Lately, Taka had been waking up without sleeping for longer than hours at a time and the days he could sleep through the night peacefully was when his chest tightened the rest of the day. Just like now, he would go to the bathroom and dunk his head under the cold running water. 

With a finger, Taka traced his reflection in the mirror, noticing the circles below both his eyes. They were growing darker. He unzipped the bag sitting on the counter next to the sink and took out the a beige tube. Uncapping it, he squirted the contents into his palm, sighing. 

Once Taka freshened himself in the bathroom, rubbing the towel in his hair, he walked to the desk where note sized papers were scattered across the surface. He slunk into the chair, propping an elbow on top and leaned against his knuckles as he checked what was written on paper. He flipped the page that was clearly the ones the hotel provided for their guests and found multiple letters inked on it. 

Taka smiled. So Toru had been writing songs the entire time? Was that the reason he was in such a bad mood this tour? Because the self-proclaimed genius guitarist couldn’t figure out which direction to take his new song. He snickered, the image of how Toru usually acted when he was hit with inspiration and wrote the backtrack and lyrics in a flash. Taka opened the Garage Band app on his phone and played chord progression accordingly, humming a random tune. He spent the morning tinkering Toru’s original notes, scribbling his own notes and changes over the same paper. He didn’t look up from his work until his head started to hurt. 

Glancing towards the door, Taka half-expected Toru to be at the doorstep. It was already well into the afternoon and his boyfriend had not returned from shooting clips for their documentary. There was no point in waiting if all the band members were going to meet up in the lobby for the MV documentary shots. He quickly slipped on his Thrash hoodie and gray sweats, and dashed out after double checking his foundation. 

* * *

 

Taka scanned the lobby, finding none of the members and staff standing around. He was a little earlier than the appointed time and was about to sit on the bench to watch videos on Youtube when he caught a glimpse of his boyfriend’s blond hair. He straightened, striding over to where Toru was surrounded by fans. The girls waiting for their turn, perked at the sight of him and he waved, smiling. They ran to him before he made it Toru, asking for selfies and his autograph on their phone cases. 

Toru shot him an apologetic look and the swelling irritation in his chest dissipated. Even though the man somewhat promised him he’d be there when he woke, it wasn’t his fault if the fans wanted Toru. Even though he wanted to snuggle in bed or be pampered, they had work and fans to love. 

The regular fans left immediately, going about their business with their newly treasured photos and experience meeting the both of them while the more dedicated fans remained to make small talk. 

“Are you seeing someone right now?” 

Taka pretended he didn’t hear the question for Toru, trying to focus on his conversation with another fan curious what their next album would be like. But as he answered the questions politely, he kept his other ear open. Usually he wasn’t the type to eavesdrop.

“No,” Toru said, “there’s no one right now.” 

At that moment, Taka couldn’t control his urge to look up, to see what was going through Toru’s mind. Did he expect this kind of straightforward question? He was mildly disappointed that the man masked indifference, ignoring his stare despite being aware of it. He knew it’d stir rumours and unwanted media attention if Toru admitted to being in a committed relationship. It still stung to have his existence denied like that.

“What about Taka?” the young woman asked, and all eyes shifted onto him. “There’s so many rumours who you’re dating and I’m not sure what to believe. Do you have a girlfriend?” 

Taka frowned, unable to hide his distaste. “No.” The woman’s mouth hung in shock at his harsh tone and her male companion elbowed her side. She regained her senses, spluttering. Taka interrupted before she could apologize, “If you know someone, introduce me?” 

The fans’ shoulders dropped. She nodded and laughed, glad she hadn’t offended Taka. “Of course! There are many girls who would die to talk to you less date you.” 

The paper he was signing crinkled. It was their job right? Toru wasn’t wrong and he wasn’t either. 

* * *

 

It was as if yesterday was a foggy dream. When they strolled along the streets downtown, the staff crouching at every corner they turned, recording their interactions. Ryota and Toru already had their individual interviews during breakfast for one of their DVD documentaries and it was time to film the one to promote their songs on Youtube. Everyone was having fun, laughing, throwing jokes here and there, playing rock paper scissors to determine who was going to pay for the meal and more than that, the band’s couple stuck shoulder to shoulder. At least in Ryota’s eyes, things were alright enough to not result in this. 

“Mori-cha—“ 

The door slammed right in his face with a resounding bam. He knocked softly, hearing sniffling come from the other side. He wasn’t sure what to do in these kinds of situations, especially when he had a feeling it was about Toru, but, weren’t they just walking to the bus after eating dinner? Didn’t they have a great day off just yesterday? What could have set Mori-chan off like that suddenly, he thought as he continued knocking. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, cringing at the words that slipped out automatically. No one would be okay if they had to lock themselves in the bathroom to cry. He turned to his left, the padding of footsteps alerting him that the drummer and guitarist caught up. Ryota waved them over hurriedly, relieved he didn’t have to deal with this alone. 

“What happened? You guys ran ahead off on your own,” Tomoya said and jerked his thumb at Toru. “And then Toru panicked so we had to run after you guys.” 

Toru looked at him for an answer, panting. Ryota licked his lips and shook his head. 

“I don’t know. Mori-chan was on his phone when he started speeding up and then went into the bathroom.” 

Toru took a deep breath and exhaled, rapping against the wooden surface. There was no response. The man grabbed the knob, jiggling it. “Taka, what’s wrong?” 

Judging from Toru’s widened eyes, Mori-chan must’ve said something inaudible to the rest of them. His childhood friend violently turned the knob and slapped the door with his right hand. 

“Taka, open the door.” Toru sighed, abruptly ceasing his attacks on the door. In a gentler tone he pleaded Mori-chan to let them know he was okay. Silence enveloped the bus, the staff staying away from the commotion, on stand-by outside. Ryota took it as a possibility that Mori-chan may have calmed down and would assure them he wasn’t physically hurt or ill. 

“Takahiro.” 

As soon as Mori-chan’s name was spoken by Toru, the vocalist snapped.

“Go away!” 

A whimper followed, but they were stunned by the fact he reacted negatively to Toru. Ryota and Tomoya glanced at the man frozen on the spot. They exchanged looks before Tomoya gripped Toru’s shoulder. 

“Leave this to me, okay?” 

“Toru…come on,” Ryota said, placing a hand on Toru’s back. He gave a push to get Toru to move further into the bus. He was going to need his beloved baseball with this constant pressure that was surely going to linger for a while. He watched Toru squeeze his eyes shut, palm sliding down the door. Toru’s head bowed. 

They sat on the cushioned seats at the very end of the bus. 

“…Did you say something to Mori-chan?” Ryota instantly regretted the way he went about it, seeing Toru’s fingers stop fidgeting, an aura of foreboding settling in the pit of his stomach. 

Toru’s head whipped up, hard eyes glaring into his. “I’m just as confused as you are. I don’t know why he’s so upset. I wish I did,” he shouted, his brows knitting together. Toru covered his eyes.

Ryota really did not know what else to say. They sat there for hours, waiting for morning to come and hopefully everything would be normal again. Ryota couldn’t fool himself because when the sun steadily rose above the horizon and the two of them tip toed to the bathroom, they saw a scene they couldn’t have imagined in their lifetime. 

Mori-chan was sleeping on Tomoya’s lap, a fuzzy blanket covering him to his ears. His eyes were puffy. The drummer had his arm swung over Mori-chan’s body like he was cradling him all night, protecting and soothing him. Tomoya’s eyes fluttered open, immediately acknowledging their presence. He put a finger to his lips, gesturing them to be quiet. 

They did not ask what happened last night. 

Toru took a shaky breath and sighed, stepping off the bus without a word. 

That night, the concert went on. No one spoke about what happened, nor did anyone think it was a good time to. Being the closest friends they were, however, Tomoya pulled Ryota to the side telling him Mori-chan didn’t want to talk about it, so even he who spent the entire night with the vulnerable vocalist didn’t have a clue to what the situation was like. 

Ryota scrolled through the photos taken during the live, similar expressions on the four of them. Sometimes he was ashamed of their professionalism, although they did their best, they were humans who couldn’t always hid their emotions on stage. Mori-chan’s voice cracked tonight, he went off pitch, and he sounded on the verge of tears when he sang the atmospheric intro of Take What You Want.

“Hey, Tomo-kun. Is it really okay?” They were the types to give people their space and time alone. People had to figure everything out, they had to decide for themselves, after all, it was their life. “Don’t they need us? Is it really okay to not interfere?” Ryota asked the snoozing body next to him. He didn’t expect a reply. 

“What do you think?” Tomoya’s voice was muddled by sleep.

“I…think they deserve it.” 

“Then help them.”


	10. Chapter 10

The number of times Taka would initiate a conversation with him reduced. Besides what was required for their work, he had nothing to say to Toru. He avoided him in general, never looking him in the face. Now they were alone sitting across from each other on the opposite side of the bus. Toru didn’t dwell on the thought it may have been set up by the other two bandmates.

Toru stared at the phone in Taka’s hand, the one he’d kept his attention on these days. At first, he didn’t pay much mind to it since Taka was always on it anyways, checking for emails from their labels, and Line notifications from his friends. Then it hit him. Instead of holding his phone with his arm hanging down when he wasn’t using it, Taka clutched it to his chest. It bothered Toru once he noticed and he wanted to know what was happening with the vocalist.

Lowering his eyes to glare at the shaking leg, Toru let out a breath. The constant movement in his vision was beginning to nag at him, even the soft sound of Taka’s heel thumping against the floor was almost unbearable. His gaze shifted back to the phone.

Naturally, Toru was curious what Taka was looking at on the screen that caused the frown on his face. He could turn into a despicable person and check the man’s phone for clues himself. He could breach Taka’s privacy, destroy the trust they had, step on it and grind it into dust until they fell apart like those soap operas everyone watched with interested. Unless it came from Taka, it was meaningless and unnecessary to sneak around. If something truly upset him, he was the type to say it straight.

“What?” Taka’s voice sliced through the silence, an icy bite to it. Toru looked at him, slightly surprised. He meant to mask the relief he was feeling, but the man he’d known as a teenager easily recognized it and stood. “Stop staring like that,” Taka said, the impression between his brows deepening.

As if Toru hadn’t heard Taka’s words, he stared at the man in awe. Those round brown eyes widened, and glassed over for a split moment before Taka looked elsewhere. Was it appropriate to apologize for the sake of it in these situations?

“Taka—“ Taka’s shoulders jerked forward, body stilling and glanced back at him. The man’s eyes trailed to the floor. He ran from Toru.

There wasn’t a chance for him to apologize nor ask Taka anything. Toru cursed how stupefied he was to sit and digest the fact Taka had spoken to him first. In that moment, Taka’s eyes were on him, not avoiding, not distracted. Toru was put in a daze, too caught up in appreciating the look directed at him. They were rare now. Maybe Taka did have his eyes on him when he wasn’t looking, strumming away on his acoustic guitar in their room, he wouldn’t know. He didn’t like the cold war they were in. This tension wasn’t very like them.

Toru leaned back, his head resting against the wall. He slapped a palm over his eyes, recalling his conversation with Ryota. He needed to talk to Taka, yet what was he waiting for? When Taka wasn’t angry anymore, for the right timing? Those were excuses because whenever Taka was in front of him, he blanked.

* * *

 It was chilly enough after their show wrapped up that Toru didn’t want to linger outside the alleyway of the venue. He pulled the lapels of his coat, shivering. Just one more puff and he’d head in. He brought his trembling fingers to his lips and held the cigarette between them. The nicotine rushed to his brain, leaving him in a relaxed state before it was gone as quick as it came. Stubbing the cigarette out, Toru turned, brushing shoulders with Ryota who appeared out of nowhere.

“Where you going?” he asked, holding a glass of red wine. Ryota looked at Toru’s hand, eyes flickering up meet his.

“Somewhere warmer.” The carton crumpled and he jammed it into his right pocket. “Oh, did you want one?”

Ryota shook his head, waving his free hand and he took a breath.

“Right, you quit for Michelle,” Toru said, the corner of his mouth lifting. 

“Yeah, she doesn’t like the smell and it’d be bad for the baby. Anyways, how are you doing?” Ryota paused, taking in Toru’s face. He sighed and sipped his wine. “I’m worried about you. You look pale and your eye bags are getting bad. They’re really dark and saggy.”

Toru snorted. He ducked his head and smiled, rubbing his eye. 

“Toru, I’m not trying to be funny here,” Ryota said. He swirled the red liquid in the glass, watching it gradually form a mini tornado.

Toru dismissed his friend’s concerns. He wondered if he’d finally cracked to be laughing at random comments that were hardly amusing.

“Taka’s…probably fine,” he said. Ryota frowned and stared him in the eye.

“I wasn’t going to ask about Mori-chan.” In response to his confused expression, Ryota continued, “I mean you. You look like you can barely hold yourself together, especially when Mori-chan, when he,” he made a hand motion, “you know, threw a fit.”

Toru sat down on the freezing cement ground, his new jeans be damned. “He’s never reacted like that before. Speaking firmly when he’s angry, yeah, but shouting like that?”

Ryota shifted his weight on his other foot, then sat down as well next to Toru. “I was seriously surprised. He never, ever, yells at you to go away. None of us know why he’s mad.”

“You got one thing wrong, though,” Toru said. He grabbed a stick and lighter from his pocket. “It’s not one of his moody fits.”

“Meaning?”

A flame danced above the lighter, casting an orange shadow across Toru’s face. He relished in the little warmth it provided and lit the cigarette. “He knows.”

Ryota sucked in a mouthful of air and held it, not daring to move or make a sound. Toru turned to him, eyes softening, the skin around it creasing. He recounted the forlorn looks on Taka, the way he retreated into himself, how he avoided Toru’s presence at times and how he shouted, refusing his help.

“…But how?” Ryota’s whisper could’ve been carried away by the wind, but Toru expected the question. He disliked blabbering on and on sometimes.

“My intuition,” he said. That was really all it was, a feeling. He wouldn’t be surprised if Taka was also like that, just knew what Toru was planning to do. He supposed he deserved the treatment he got, a taste of his own medicine. “We’ve been together for a long time, he’d notice. Would you believe me if said we were drifting apart for months now?” 

The wine glass clanked as it was placed on the ground none too gently. “Wait, wait, what? No way.” Ryota gripped his shoulder, urging him to look at him. “Why didn’t you say anything? I didn’t even notice.”

He shrugged. “These things happen slowly, at first from an insignificant doubt and without realizing it, the distance grows until you can’t see where you started.” 

Ryota had a thoughtful look, sorting through Toru’s vague words. He didn’t press further and pat Toru’s back. “Talk to him. Talking mostly solves things when you’re willing to,” Ryota said. His arm draped over Toru’s shoulder, tugging. “I’m here if you need me.”

Toru’s shoulders slumped. If there was some way he could properly convey how thankful he was to have a childhood friend like Ryota, he would tell the man everyday what a kind person he was. The man who entrusted his entire future, his life to him. He seemed upset back then, yet here he was by his side despite everything—Toru’s lack of explanation and their different perspectives. 

“Thanks, I will.”

Ashes began to fall from the end of his cigarette, blending in with the dull cement. Toru flicked the stick, uncaring where it landed and turned. He smiled, hearing Ryota’s footsteps follow after him while he lectured Toru about littering.

* * *

 It was definitely planned. He had promised his childhood friend he would talk to Taka properly and apparently dawdled far too long even the easygoing Ryota ran out of patience. The bassist stared at Toru with a frown, blinking. He returned the expressionless stare, unmoving. Ryota rolled his eyes and pushed off his seat.

Stretching he said, “Okay, who wants to play some baseball and go out for barbeque after?” Everyone’s eyes flew to Ryota, waiting for the magic phrase. He huffed. “My treat.”

The staff and Tomoya cheered, quickly agreeing and shuffled towards the bus doors. Toru stood as well, joining the crowd when he felt a painful jab right in his empty stomach. He hissed, holding his abdomen. Ryota stepped in his way and tilted his head subtly.

“Where are you going?” he said and Toru opened his mouth to answer only to be interrupted. “I think now is a good time. Now or never.” Ryota tapped his chest with his knuckles and left.

Toru’s fingers closed around Taka’s wrist as he passed by him. He hadn’t thought his action through and stiffened under the watchful eyes of the vocalist. Now or never right?

“Can we talk?”

Their second manager, squeezed between them and the corridor, giving them a glance over. He pushed Taka lightly, enough to have the shorter man in Toru’s personal space. He should lose some weight, he thought, if the manager needed more room when there was plenty to fit three people side by side no problem.

Taka shot the glasses man a glare. “Talk about what?”

“You don’t want to.” It was a statement, hard and unwavering. Taka pulled his arm and Toru tightened his grip. Realizing Toru wasn’t going to stop, the man stopped resisting, narrowing his eyes at him.

“If you wanted to talk, that should’ve been weeks ago when I asked you what was wrong,” Taka said.

Toru took it as a good sign that Taka was talking to him. He was willing to face Toru. He mentally thanked Ryota again, all he needed was a push and he was glad to have a conversation with the vocalist. 

“That was a problem I had to deal with on my own, okay? I just wanted time to think through some things.”

“Some things,” Taka stressed the last word, “you can’t even share with me?”

“Taka, dont.”

“Don’t what?” 

“You want to accuse me right?” Toru said bitterly. He straightened his back, shaking his head.

“What else am I supposed to think when you’re sneaking around hiding things from me?” Taka shouted, jerking his arm. “And let go of me, I’m not going anywhere.” 

Toru slowly loosened the hold around the thin wrist slowly, testing to see if Taka would escape. He relaxed when Taka didn’t immediately bolt out of the bus. Taka looked away, rubbing his wrist. Toru felt a pang in his chest, worried he might have hurt him, though it was forgotten as soon as Taka continued.

“Don’t lie to me,” he muttered.

Taka’s words echoed in his mind. That day when Taka was alone in the bathroom, when he was  upset and no one knew why, Toru nearly gave into temptation to break the door that separated them. He was certain it was his fault Taka was crying. Luckily, his logical side overpowered the impulsive. Busting the door down in that cubicle sized bathroom meant it would collapse on top of Taka. Toru wasn’t prepared. 

“Taka, what’s wrong?”

He shouldn’t have been able to hear absolute silence, the other two members were fussing behind him. It rang loud and clear as if it were the sole sound that existed.

_“Liar.”_

Toru let out an indignant noise.

“When did I lie? Should I make the same conclusion as you are? You’ve been avoiding me, hiding things from me, so should I say you are a—“

Taka’s look of betrayal made him pause. The vocalist nodded and swallowed.

“Yeah…yeah, go ahead, call me a cheater.”

“I wasn’t going to say—“

“This is stupid, forget it,” Taka spat and turned on his heels.

The rapid heartbeat beneath his ribs brought a burning sensation in his chest and his breathing picked up. Taka was leaving, leaving without understanding anything. Toru extended an arm to grab the man’s shoulder, but his hand was slapped before he could lay a finger on him.

“Leave me alone.”

Taka’s eyes were glazed over, nose a feverish red. Toru’s stomach dropped. Despite knowing he was going to be denied, he refused to leave everything unfinished. He encircled Taka’s waist with his arms, forcefully pulling the vocalist into an embrace. The man flailed, roughly prying his arms apart, causing Toru to tighten his hold.

“Listen,” Toru said. Taka’s elbow hit his stomach, the exact spot where Ryota jabbed him earlier. He grunted, watching Taka use the opportunity to push his chest. “You said you wouldn’t run." Toru caught both of Taka’s wrists, stepping backwards on unsteady feet. “When did I lie?” he asked again. 

“When?” Taka cried. “Maybe when you were flirting around in the club with some girl?”

“What girl?” 

Taka laughed, tears rolling down his cheek. His soft fringes fell, tickling his forehead. He drew circles with his index finger with his finger, addressing Toru’s puzzled expression. “What? You flirted with so many you can’t even remember which girl.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I really don’t know what girl you’re talking about,” Toru said. He wracked his brain for any memory of being with a girl in a club. Was it recent? If it was it had to be during this tour. But he hadn’t flirted with anyone. All he had was Taka.

“The one you’ve been messaging on Instagram. A mixed blond woman. I saw you guys sitting at a table by the bathroom having a lot of fun, laughing, joking, happy. Does it remind you of anything?” Taka sneered.

“Taka, she’s a friend,” he said offhandedly. Toru frowned, the vocalist’s reasoning was scattered. They both had friends of the opposite sex, what was different this time that would cause Taka to snap?

He closed the little distance between them. “She’s just a new friend I met.” 

“Fine.” Taka grabbed Toru’s shirt, twisting their band shirt in his fists. “If she’s a friend then what am I?”

His breath hitched in his throat. Well wasn’t this perfect, Toru’s inner voice provided.

“Did you fall out of love with me?” Taka pushed at his chest, looking up at him.

He couldn’t be that cruel. “No. I’ve always told you haven’t I? That I lo—“

“You’re still lying? Am I that pitiful? You knew I liked you, saw all the signs and decided to date me because I’m such a sorry sight that can’t do anything without you,” Taka shouted, beating his balled fists against Toru’s chest. “Is that how much the band means to you? Of course.”

“Enough!”

Taka flinched, taking a step back. Large glassy eyes stared at him in shock, shaking in fear like a prey. The sight should have deterred Toru, make him speak in a calmer manner. Gone was the always patient Toru, gone was the well-tempered Toru, he wanted to plead Taka to understand, his love for him, at the very least, he should believe in.

“You think I’d date you out of pity? Don’t fuck with me,” he said. His jaw clenched. The speed which the conversation was unfolding was overwhelming. He took a step forward as Taka took a step back, an invisible hand repelling him. His chest grew tighter.

“You know, two people in love, you know what they do? They hold hands, they hug, they go on dates, cheer each other on and touch. You know what comes with love? Sex. You never touch me that way anymore.”

Toru surged forward, palms smacking the windshield on either side of Taka’s head. Taka shrunk back, red lining under his puffy eyes. He kept his gaze down.

“Am I that disgusting?” he asked, quieter.

Without a sound, Toru lowered his head and pressed his lips against Taka’s. Their mouths melded together. The other’s lips yielded under the faint pressure and he felt them quiver when he retreated. Taka looked lost, eyes wandering.

“You’re not gay,” Taka said and Toru pressed another kiss to his cheek, lapping up a salty tear. “Stop it.” The vocalist’s hands flew to his shoulders, conflicted whether he wanted to push or pull him. “Not even bi.”

Toru made the decision for him. He licked the chapped lips, wetting them before slipping his tongue into Taka’s mouth. Taka gasped, allowing him entrance, tilting his chin to facilitate the kiss. He removed his hand from the windshield glass and roamed over Taka’s body. The noises emitted were dirty, the exchange of saliva dribbling out the corners of their mouths as their tongues tangled and slid in and out languidly.

Taka whined, grip tightening and loosening on Toru’s sleeves. He chased the lips that were moving away from him after initiating contact. “Toru, stop.” Toru nipped along his jaw and neck, sucking hard once. Taka stiffened, biting his bottom lip to prevent any sound from coming out. It was too much as Toru sucked again at a particularly sensitive spot, leaving his skin tingling and warm. He buried his face in the man’s neck, sniffling. “Toru please.” 

Toru went on marking the vocalist’s neck with bruises, hoping Taka could feel it. Feel what was real. He scooped Taka’s plump lips, pressing and pressing, invading the man’s oral cavity until he opened completely for him and accepted his passion.

Taka panted, a dark prominent flush colouring his cheek. “Just say it.”

The touch was cold as Toru interlaced their hands. He looked at them thoughtfully. “Let’s break up,” he said.

A whimper broke from Taka, his frame shaking harder, heaving heavier and he clung onto Toru. He dropped to the floor and Toru guided him smoothly, enveloping Taka in a cradle. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, rocking the man in his arms. He felt a shake and fingers raking his back. They remained like that amidst the bursts of uncontrollable gasps and choked confessions. Eventually, Taka drifted off to sleep and Toru was left alone to comprehend what he’d done, what was said. He waited for Taka’s grip to loosen, but it didn’t, exactly like a koala clinging onto its favourite branch. As he carried Taka to his bed, he wondered how long it had been since he had an argument with someone.

He could hear two boyish laughs, Taka and Tomoya. They were gathered in the studio to rehearse and discuss their setlist when he got into a fight with Ryota. The drummer and vocalist watched them from the sidelines. They laughed and said they were being childish to argue about something that trivial, he couldn’t remember what it was. Ryota and Toru suddenly felt embarrassed and stopped, looking at each other.

Toru carefully untangled Taka’s limbs from him, placing him in bed and pulled the sheets over the man. He caressed the cheek of the one he loved, memorizing Taka’s features in detail. He ghosted out of the bedroom area, sliding the door closed.

Ryota’s head emerged from the mini fridge. “Toru?”

He brought his head to Ryota’s, foreheads touching. “Thank you.” 

The implication clicked and his friend put down his can to rub his back.

 


End file.
